


the bitters and sours

by bookishgypsy



Category: Dynasty (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:02:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21782632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookishgypsy/pseuds/bookishgypsy
Summary: "And damn, it tears at her insides and makes her heart sting, filling her with a different kind of heartache she’s not sure she’s ever felt before. She wishes she could take away all the pain he’s feeling and make herself feel all this hurt for him instead. " // #falliamfrenzy week one
Relationships: Fallon Carrington/Liam Ridley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	the bitters and sours

It’s eerily quiet when she steps foot into the dark and grungy bar. 

She feels utterly out of place the moment her feet step onto the light colored hardwood floors of the small, local joint that not many outside the area know about; a hidden gem to only those who resided in the Atlanta area and one of those places that the locals made sure to not share with tourists. 

The lights were dim, only creating a muted orange, illuminating glow over the bar top, the shiny wood glimmering against the brilliance, the glasses lined against it filled with liquor that’s stark against the rest of the room that’s covered in shadows. 

There’s a few people playing at one of the pool tables off towards the left of her that she notices, who look up at her oddly; she figures not a lot of people walk into this place wearing Dolce and Gabbana, so she isn’t surprised by the glares that trickle in her direction. Normally, it’d bother her, and she may even go as far as to say something to the wandering eyes, but she’s here for more important things right now and she can’t find it in herself to particularly care what the three strangers think of her. 

Besides the three people to her left playing billiards, there’s only a total of four people at the bar, sitting so many odd seats apart from each other, drinking whatever hard liquor was poured into their glasses. 

But then she sees _him_ out of the corner of her eye, looking utterly lost and completely defeated.

And it’s just _so_ unlike the Liam she knew and loved, the Liam who was always _positive_ and _strong_ and who was always the man who saw the optimistic side of any situation, no matter how bad it may have seemed or how ominous something might have looked; his glass was always half full. 

He’d tucked himself into the far back corner of the already small room, choosing to isolate himself from the rest of the crowd at the spot farthest from the door; out of sight, out of mind, she figures.

Or maybe it was to try to hide himself from _her_ potentially finding him here. 

He’s picking mindlessly with his fingers at the corners of one of the black cocktail napkins on the bar top, an action she immediately recognized from him as a way to distract his mind from the racing thoughts blazing through it. 

She watches on for a moment, as he chugs back a sip from the beer bottle currently in his hand, and that’s when she notices the already (she assumes, at least) two empty ones set in front of him.

And _damn,_ it tears at her insides and makes her heart sting, filling her with a different kind of heartache she’s not sure she’s ever felt before. She wishes she could take away all the pain he’s feeling and make herself feel all this hurt for him instead. 

But it also makes her want to tear Laura Van Kirk to _shreds_ for treating her own son like he’s some sort of toy that she can toss around and around; for treating this poor man she loved more than anything the way she does. 

She swears she’d do anything to make sure he never had to feel the way he’s feeling because of his own conniving mother again.

Her tall heels click against the floor, gaining the attention from the quiet crowd that graces the establishment on this random Tuesday evening, eyes trailing and following her as she makes her way to the only person she’s come here for. 

“Hey,” she mutters sitting on the stool next to his.

The stool is anything but comfortable, but his silence bothers her even more than the tall bar seat she’s sitting on. She pulls her hand up to rest it atop the hand he has resting against the bar, letting him know she’s there; to listen to him, to talk to him, for mere comfort if that was all he needed.

“Hey,” he says softly before ripping his hand away from her grip to tip back his beer bottle and finish it off, placing in off to the side with two other bottles he’s already polished off; she doesn’t like how the whole scene in front of her looks - the thought of him drowning his feelings in alcohol, it tugs at her in a different way to see him this low. 

They’re encapsulated in silence for a moment besides the noise from the jukebox that’s playing some Kenny Chesney song she can’t currently place, and the small sounds from the three others playing pool on the other side of the building. 

She’s not the best at this. This isn’t her strong suit; she’s never been the best at being there for people, being vulnerable with people in general. But this is _Liam_ and she loves him and she can’t stand the thought of seeing him like this. 

And he needs her right now, more than anything.

She once again reaches her hand up to cover his with hers, softly asking, “Are you okay?”

He lets out a deep sigh and it comes off as frustrated in his tone and actions. But not with her, never with her. He brings his other hand up to his face, rubbing his thumb against his temple when he finally responds with, “Not really, Fal, no.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” She squeezes his hand gently, trying to give him a small reminder that she’s there, she’s right there and he can lean on her if he needs to.

He doesn’t reply to her question, she can only watch him in anticipation as he just nods in the direction of the bartender to grab his attention, and the man behind the counter is quick to make his way to the pair of them off in the far corner. 

“Another beer?”

“Shot of whiskey.”

“Liam, no.” She can only keep her eyes on him, but he doesn’t even so much look in her direction. She turns her eyes to the bartender before them, telling him, “No, he’s all set.”

His eyes turn in her direction boring right into hers, and the gaze she’s met with is so dark and defeated and completely _lost_ when he repeats his words, “A shot of whiskey.”

She just keeps her eyes on him as she watches him suck back the dark spirit in one swift gulp, empty shot glass falling right back against the bar top. She feels the tears prick at the corner of her eyes while she watches his demeanor fall farther and farther from everything she’s used to seeing radiate off of him. But she pushes those back and refuses to let him see them fall, because the last thing he needs right now is for her to fall apart - he needs her strength more than anything right now. 

“Can I get you anything? Can I do anything for you?” Her voice is soft, for his ears only; not that there’s anyone around to eavesdrop on their conversation regardless of how quiet she speaks. “Anything, Liam. I mean it.”

She feels helpless as he just stays silent, eyes focusing anywhere but on her. She would do anything, _anything_ to take this all away from him, but she doesn’t know what to do, she doesn’t know how to make it all go away. She doesn’t even know if he wants her here, and that tugs at her chest because all she wants to do is hold his hand tightly so he knows she’s there for him. 

“I can go if you want to be alone.”

She searches his eyes for any type of response from him, any type of expression in his features to see if she can figure out exactly what he wants from her, but they’re blank, and his words seem to fail him because he just stays silent, looking at her with an empty expression she’s not sure she’s ever seen written across his face before. 

She takes his silence as him wanting to be alone, wanting to process everything by himself, and it’s just Liam being Liam and not just wanting to hurt her feelings by saying so, so she begins to slide herself off her seat in preparation to leave. 

“I love you. Please remember that,” she squeezes his hand resting against the wooden bar, leaning into his body to press against the top of his head. “I’ll be up waiting for you when you’re ready to come home, okay?”

She spins around in her seat, hopping off the high chair and her feet hitting the solid ground beneath her feet when she feels his hand wrap around her wrist tightly, forcing her to spin around and catch his eyes staring up air. They’re filled with a sadness she’s never seen from him, a desperation she never thought she’d see from him. They’re hollow and bare and desperate for someone, anyone ( _her_ ) to fix what he’s going through.

“Please stay.”

It’s all she needs to hear to hop back up on the uncomfortable bar stool and to cover his hand resting against the bar top with her much smaller one; she reaches around his back and pulls him into her, his head lolling on to her shoulder while she allows him to pull all the strength he needs from her. 

The only thing she can do as she holds this boy in her arms is hope for a better tomorrow. 


End file.
